cc: Stand up and fight

Pain. Anger. Fear. It’s all that she could have felt. nothing more, and certainly nothing less. She had been traveling across the world for years, doing her job, saving myrrh, stopping the miasma from taking over. And yet, in the end... It was all futile. She had no strength left to fight, to live. The armor she wore, the companions she joined, the people she fought for, was all, too heavy to bear. A trickle appeared in her eye, a sparkle. A small tear dripped, trailing against the dirt and grime covering her once beautiful face. Her throat choked up, the memories coming crashing down upon her. All dead. For what? Other villages? She didn’t even know those people she was ‘protecting.’ The world? Surely someone else could have come and saved the world, just not her. No. Not just anyone. The thought struck home, hammering it like her hammer would have back at the blacksmith’s. No. Not just anyone, her. She was fighting. Another tear dripped down her cheek. Her family, what would they have thought right now? Thought of her, laying by the side of the road, covered in battle scars and soot. No, she was not going to leave like this. One last fight, one last battle... One last victory. No one died for nothing, and she certainly didn’t. Her legs strained, the damaged boots upon her feet dragging through the dirt. She wouldn’t lose, not after what she had been through! Blood trickled down her arm, staining the lovely blue cloth, ripped after numerous battles to get where she was. Her resolve strengthened once more. No, this wasn’t for just one person, not just for her. Not for everyone either. For the ones who had kept her safe, who had lived with her, laughed with her. Died with her. Her foot found purchase upon the dusty pathway, lifting her up. Another tear slid down, washing away more grime. Her metal pauldron grinded on the rocks, scraping the paint off and creating dents in the dull silver. Her body cried out for rest, but she knew that she couldn’t. Not yet, not now, not while there was still something left to pass through. With a last heave, she lifted herself up off of the ground, tearing open a wound, but staggering forward all the same. She could barely feel the pain now. By now the tears were free-flowing, rivers opening, bursting through the dams and down her stained cheeks. With red eyes, she lifted her sword. Her cap had fallen off, the feathers lying flat on the windless plains. They too, were dirty and grimy, a testament to her trials. A shadow over encompassed hers, drowning out the sounds and darkening everything. She tilted her head forwards, looking straight up. Raem. A name to a face. A twisted face, but one nonetheless. One last trial. Then, she could rest easy. It was now, or never. She looked on a little longer, before looking down and charging.